


To Be Seen, To Belong

by reylo_addict



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alderaanian Hair Braiding (Star Wars), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben is in love with Rey, Ear Kink, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Freeform, HEA, Hair Braiding, Light Angst, Maybe - Freeform, No Pregnancy, Rey does Ben's hair too, Rey is in love with Ben, Safe to read if you are triggered by pregnancy, Smut, So much talk of hair, They just haven't said it yet, and ears, but its a little different, like just a sprinkle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:13:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28793727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reylo_addict/pseuds/reylo_addict
Summary: Ben keeps the pieces of himself he doesn't want the world to see tucked away. Behind the expensive suits, his ruthless business sense, that long wavy hair. But he shows it all to Rey.She's a little too afraid of getting hurt, of being cast aside to let herself notice. But one moment it clicks and her world is turned upside down.Suddenly, everything makes sense.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 97
Kudos: 284





	To Be Seen, To Belong

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, once upon a time I saw a picture of Adam where the tip of his ear was poking through his hair and the line "All it takes is a sliver of white skin, peeking out between dark rumbled waves to send her world spiraling into a tailspin." popped into my head. I wrote it down in my notes and sort of thought I wouldn't do anything with it. Then I had an idea for a scene while I was cooking dinner and it got added. Then another while I was in the shower and then I mentioned it to a few other Reylo's who all encouraged me to write it and now, here we are. 
> 
> Special thanks to @pocketfullofdaisies for being so excited anytime I brought this up and kicking my butt last week to actually work on it! 
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are my own and will probably be corrected later. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Looking back it's hard to believe she missed it. The not so subtle signs were right there. She blames her own wounded heart for making her constantly second guess, well, everything. But maybe this was Ben’s way, maybe it makes her love him a little bit more because without his words, he’d told her.

****

Ben wakes her one morning by crawling into bed behind her, skin still wet from his shower. He’s absolutely obnoxious; early riser, up before the sun so he can run while the city is still quiet. His arms are warm and even though the drops of water dotting his chest feel cold against her back she doesn’t fight or protest when he leans in closer still and burrows his face between her shoulder and her ear. 

“Mmmm good morning” he cooes. Planting gentle kisses up and down the line of her neck. It’s good, great even, waking up like this with him. Warm and safe, tucked away in his opulent apartment high up in a building named after his family. The muted hum of the city as it comes to life below them while Ben whispers all the filthy things he wants to do to her at work later into the delicate skin of throat. A girl could get used to that kind of thing. Not that Rey will. She knows what this is, a fling, a last hurrah before he settles down with someone appropriate. He’s a legacy. Known far and wide by his name alone and she's nobody. Some temp hire that gritted her teeth and worked her way up to administrative assistant for the young hotshot CEO of Skywalker Enterprise. 

It took months of sexual tension and stolen glances, days and hours of bickering about who knew the best way to do everything — her — and who knew all the right people to get things done — him. Quiet late nights spent in her office tucked next to his, shoes kicked off, stockinged feet brushing across the cold slate floors while she helped him prepare the project that would place him in a position of irrefutable power above his uncle. Laughter filled evenings where they’d eaten dinner on the floor by his desk when he reached over to wipe a smudge of chili sauce off her cheek and held her stare too long. Early morning coffee runs that ended with him screaming at her loud enough for Kaydel Connix one floor down to hear the commotion, all because the barista “Samuel” kept writing his number on both their cups and wasn’t that a bit “unprofessional”. Maybe when this is all done and Ben goes back to his normal life, a life where he can parade the woman warming his bed around for the world to see, she’ll go back to that coffee shop and let Samuel write his name on her cup again. Maybe it’ll be an easy fix for a heart she already knows will be shattered. That's what she gets, for even dreaming he might not leave. 

But she's a secret, this much she knows. Because Ben Solo, the youngest CEO of Skywalkers Enterprise, top of the Forbes 30 under 30 list, is too delicious to say no to even if it breaks her heart. The flashing target on his back, the expectations that come with being a business genius and an heir to not one, but two massively important families means one thing, he’s too good for her and no amount of tears on her part or waiting and hoping will ever change that. 

“You're so loud when you think like this'', Ben whispers in her ear before shifting them, rolling her onto her back and pinning her to the mattress with his chest against hers. He cups her jaw and pulls her face up to meet his, his smile is — there might not be words for it actually. It’s charming, but not in the way it’s supposed to be, all crooked pearl white teeth and slanted plush lips that make her knees tremble with want when he purses them deep in thought over the morning reports. 

“Whatever you’re worrying about can wait, don’t let it take you away from me now.” Rey smiles at him when he's far enough away to come into focus and he’s so beautiful like this it nearly takes her breath away. Pale smooth skin, dotted with freckles and moles she’s spent more time cataloguing with her tongue and lips than is strictly inappropriate in a professional setting, a pair of warm chocolate eyes that sometimes look almost green in the right light, a strong aquiline nose that crinkles just so when he smiles like this. His hair is soaking wet, blacker than ink and pushed back off his face, dripping at the ends so it rains down on her shoulders and over her neck. It all paints a brilliant picture, but nothing so good as the moment she realizes his soaked waves are tucked behind his ears. Ears that she's only seen proudly displayed in the pictures hanging in his mothers office, from when he was a boy, to young to be self conscious. Ears that disappear in all documented photographs after he turns 11 or 12. Ears that are gloriously sexy to her now that she's truly seeing them unobstructed for the first time. 

He’s stolen her thoughts, just like that, with this surprise look. She realizes that in all the weeks they have been doing this, all the times they have showered together, all the baths he’s drawn and then joined her in, he’s always ruffled his hair keeping his ears out of sight and maybe is subconscious, maybe he doesn't even realize he’s doing it. Maybe this morning when got out of the shower he was just desperate to be back beside her— inside her — and he doesn't even know they are on display. 

With a delicate finger she traces the shell of one ear and smiles warmly at him from her spot between his elbows. Ben freezes, solid as a rock above her and that confirms it. Without saying a word, she drags her hands into his hair and pulls him down for another kiss. Moaning into his mouth when he presses himself more firmly against her. “Morning”, Rey whispers when she breaks the kiss. He’s smiling at her in that way she loves and before she can say anything else he shakes his head like mad above her, showering her in tiny droplets and filling the room with the scent of his shampoo. She squeals, kicking her legs and attempting to cover her face with hands he now has pinned below his. 

“Just because I need a shower so I can wake up doesn't mean you have to bring it to bed”, she giggles at him once he stops. Ben grins, nipping at her bottom lip before kissing her again, slow and sweet, the taste of his morning espresso and the cigarette he thinks she doesn't know about cling to his lips. “Just thought I’d save you a step, sweetheart.” Warm hands release her wrists and slowly make their way down her body, one coming up to cradle her head while the other finds purchase on her hip.

“Are you terribly mad at me,” Ben asks, mocking her accent just to make her giggle. It's another thing that had started as a fight and ended being so stupidly endearing and she absolutely doesn’t love it when he does it. 

“Not terribly, no” she snarks. Ben tsks his tongue, shaking his head again, sending another spray of ice cold water onto her face and chest. 

“Damn, I was hoping I’d need to beg for your forgiveness.” A gentle kiss at her collar bone has him shifting to scoot a little further away from her. “Maybe, kiss you all better.” Another kiss above her right breast, eyelids heavy with lust when he peeks at her from beneath dark lashes. 

“Mmmm, now that you mention it, I might be tinsy bit mad at you.”

“Just a tinsy bit?”

Another wet kiss to her left nipple, those red, velvet lips wrapping around the rosey bud. A firm suck followed by a nip of his teeth that makes her gasp. He lets go of her with a wet smack and taunts her with a crooked grin. 

If it’s a game he wants, she’s happy to play along.

“No, I've changed my mind. I am terribly mad.”

Ben quirks a brow at her and continues making his way down her chest, peppering her skin with soft kisses as he goes. “Just terribly?” he licks the space between her breasts before opening his lips and positively swallowing her right breast in his hot mouth. 

Rey narrowly manages to choke out a no, which perks his interest enough for her to grab his face and pull it back to her. “No,” she tries again, clearing her throat. “I’m dreadfully angry. Absolutely spitting mad.” Without thinking she pushed her hands into the hair that's fallen around his face, sweeping the locks back and tucking them behind his ears. She trails her thumbs over the curves of his ears and smiles wide at him, taking in the way this change to his usual style makes him appear so much younger and more carefree. She could drown in this look, wants to save it for forever, tuck it away safely inside her chest where she’ll never forget it. 

Ben beams at her, so warm and bright it takes her breath away. For a moment she forgets what they were even talking about because it's stunning the way he looks at her sometimes, eyes sparkling with some emotion she can’t name. Rey watches him track the way she bites her lip when she tucks another wayward lock behind his ear. Her heart swells with the realization that he's not shying away from her yet, isn't hiding. She thinks she can almost feel his breath shutter and then he’s kissing her again. Clearing her mind and electrifying her body. 

He kisses her for ages, entire lifetimes before he pulls away and restarts his track down her body. 

“If you're spitting mad—”

“Don't forget dreadfully.”

“Right”, he smirks “dreadfully angry, absolutely spitting mad. I guess I had better make it up to you?”

There's a smart retort on the edge of her tongue when he drags the tip of his across her ribs then circles her navel. The desire to needle him disappears and she manages a low hum of approval when he settles his chest between her legs, spreading her thighs even further apart to make room for his shoulders. His hot hands firmly grabbing the globes of her ass and lifting her mound closer to his waiting lips. He inhales, nuzzling against her folds and kisses her almost too gently before licking a hot stripe from her entrance to her clit. The contact alights a fire in her veins then he’s pulling away, leaving searing hot kisses on the inside of her thighs. 

First the right, then the left. Over and over, teasing her with nips and licks at her delicate skin. 

When she’s had enough of his teasing, Rey pushes herself up on her elbows to level him with a icy glare. “I thought you were apologizing.”

Ben smiles up at her where he lays prone on his belly he shifts forward and rests his chin atop the line of tidy curls, so close to her clit she has to resist the urge to grind against him. 

“I am”, he assures her in the cool confidence of a man that knows he only stands to win. Like he hasn't woken her up before the sun, covered her in the remnants of his shower and then enticed her with promises of lazy morning sex. After a second he begins pressing more kisses down her body but stops to lean his head against her thigh sending a few ice cold droplets from the tips of his hair to trail down her burning flesh. Eyebrows knit together in what could almost be believable confusion if it weren't for the smug grin he doesn't so much as try to hide that immediately follows. “Was that not clear?”

There's no waiting for her to answer. Ben turns one last time and sucks, leaving a mark that only he will see. A mark she has no doubt he will beg her to show him everytime he calls her to his office later today. A mark that she will lovingly run her fingers over as it starts to fade. A mark she will encourage him to replace if he hasn't already by the time it fully disappears. 

When he’s done, satisfied with the bruise, he meets her eyes and whispers, “Perhaps I should step up my game? Make it a little more obvious what I’m trying to accomplish here.” 

Rey only nods in agreement, so focused on where she needs him and how she can get him to — Ben startles her when he tugs her closer again, lips formed in an o shape that has her legs beginning to shake. He blows a gentle stream of air, cool and soft over her clit. It’s just enough to make her gasp and Ben, the ass, he chuckles.Chuckles! 

“Don’t be mad sweetheart.” 

Then he’s on her, licking and sucking like a man starved for this — for her. Rey moans at the contact, arms giving out so she crashes back against the mattress. Another pass of his tongue over her entrance and she’s arching, pushing further against him, trying to angle herself just right. She barely notices when he rests his forearms on the bed to steady himself and then lifts her with his wide strong hands cupping her ass, supporting her, opening her up. He encourages her rocking with his moans. Moans that gently vibrate against her clit.

Her body moves of its own volition, hands reaching down to tangle in his hair, to tug and pull, to trace the shell of his ears. At the contact Ben shivers, a wild shutter through his whole body that she doesn't have time to contemplate because suddenly his hands are gone and her ass is hitting the bed. Ben doesn't shake her off, doesn't tell her to stop when she carefully squeezes one ear lobe between her fingers. He growls, a low deep sound against her cunt before he cups her sex. “Look at me”, he commands, as if he can't move forward without her eyes on him. When she does manage to open her eyes and meet his gaze he says nothing. Without taking his eyes off her, he parts her folds and enters her with two thick fingers. She rewards him with a feather light brush against the delicate skin behind his right ear. 

Eyes still locked on hers he crooks his finger, hitting that sweet spot he knows makes her fall apart and sealing his lips around her clit he begins to suck. 

Rey struggles to keep her eyes on him, they’ve done this so many times before she knows exactly what happens if she breaks. He’ll go back to teasing and while that has its merits, they really don’t have the time and she’s not in the mood to be patient. He fucks her on his fingers, licks and sucks at her until she’s shaking, her own mouth twisted into a permanent O, her breathing ragged and loud. 

“Ben”, she bucks against his hand, begging him for more. He doubles down, giving her exactly what she needs, making her see stars. She feels her eyes slip shut and tries to apologize, a broken sob, “I — I’ms — can’t keep — Ben!” She comes, with one hand in his hair and the other holding on for dear life, clutching his ear so tight it must hurt; with his fingers buried to the knuckle in her cunt and his lips sealed around her clit. He fucks her through it, whispering filthy words between gentle kisses as he slowly makes his way up her body. He loves how she soaked his fingers. How beautiful she is when she comes on his face. He tells her he can’t wait to be inside her. He is going to fill her up until she’s dripping with him, send her to work looking put together while only he knows what a mess he’s made of her. How he can’t get enough of her. 

Rey groans, clinging to him with everything she has when he sinks into her. She lets him kiss her, tasting herself on his lips and silently hating how much she loves it. How she wishes she could tell everyone what he does to her. How the most imposing man many of them have ever known buries his face between her legs to bring her pleasure before he starts his days. How this “business monster” is the most selfless lover she’s ever had. 

Breaking for air, Rey looks up at him where he hovers over her. She lets her hands travel over the hard muscles of his back, digging her nails into his shoulders when he grinds his pelvis into hers then thrusts hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. Ben fucks her like a man on a mission, sliding his hand between their sweat soaked bodies, circling her clit, silently begging her to give him everything. “What do you think?”, he asks. “Am I forgiven or do you need to come again?”

She’s so close already and if he stops now she’ll actually be furious with him for the rest of the day. “Again, don't you dare stop.” 

The satisfied smirk on his face should not make her heart skip a beat. But he’s playing her body like he trains for it. Telling her how he needs to feel her come on his cock. Making promises about how if she's a good girl for him now, she’ll get to be his meal at lunch. Asking her if she thinks he should have her warm his cock during his morning conference call. The second orgasm builds and builds a warmth that fills her limbs and burns down her spine. She’s screaming and shaking while Ben tells her she’s so good, he’s so proud of her as he fucks her through the aftershocks. 

There's no stopping the way her eyes, heavy lidded from pleasure take him in. He’ll need another shower, maybe she can lure him into joining her by licking the sweat from his cooling body once they’re done. His hair has started drying in wild waves that jut out at odd angles, still wet at the scalp she runs her fingers through, pushing it out of his face and tucking it back behind his ears as his thrusts grow wild. She’s never seen him like this or rather, she’s never seen this part of him while he’s inside her and something about it settles in her chest, pushing and making room for something she keeps trying to ignore. She knows the way his chest flushes when he fucks her, knows that occasionally it crawls up his throat and face, another physical marker of his exertion. But she’s never seen it here, on the tips of his ears. Bright red and if she had to guess — yes, hot to the touch. 

“Rey”, he gasps.

She pulls him in close, pressing a kiss to his temple while he nuzzles at her neck. She traces a thumb over the curve of one ear while she licks a hot strip against the other and whispers, “Come for me”. Ben moans, a pained pleasure sound she’s never heard as he slams into her again and stills, spilling inside her, hips flush against hips. His weight settles heavy atop her and she loses herself in it. A nip to his earlobe makes him shout her name and pump into her again. It feels divine, like she could die in this moment and nothing would be better. 

They lie there together a tangled mess of limbs and shuddering breaths. Rey runs her hands up and down his spine, smiles when he kisses her neck. Eventually, he lifts his head to look down at her looking between her eyes, like he's searching for something. “What” she asks when the moment drags on too long making her stomach roll with nerves, she works her arms out from beneath him and runs her fingers through his hair, tucking it behind his ears so she can see them once again. He closes his eyes and leans into her touch, slowly shaking his head before dipping down to kiss her. “You’re just incredible, I hope you know that.” 

Rey swallows, still unused to such intimate compliments. Not that this is new, since they stopped holding back, stopped pretending they weren’t interested, he's made it a point to tell her every positive thought he has about her. He tells her she’s a genius when she figures out problems at work. Tells he’s she’s gorgeous when she wakes up in his shirts. He’s threatened to write songs about how she sucks his cock. He cornered her once after she stood up to Leia when his mother had tried to pull Rey into her side of an argument over how Ben handles employees; told her no one ever stood up to Leia on his behalf and that she was his hero and he didn’t deserve her.

But still, adjusting from a life of little external validation doesn’t happen overnight and she wonders if she’ll have time to get used to it. If it’ll be easy to go back to her old way of living when this is over. 

Soon though it’s time to get up and start the day. There’s more kissing and she does drag him into the shower with her and he doesn’t ruffle his hair to cover his ears, doesn’t shy away she takes the shampoo from him and tells him to lean down. When they get out he combs it all back, sans product or styling and pulls her into the kitchen where they eat bagels and drink coffee, naked, with her in his lap. 

They separate long enough to finish getting ready. Ben surprises her by wrapping his arms around her from behind while she steps into her shoes. He kisses the back of her neck, telling her it’s time to go and when she turns to take his hand she finds herself a little surprised. 

Ben’s dressed just like everyday, in a pristine suit, black tie, shiny leather shoes. He has his phone and keys in one hand, thumbing through notifications while he waits for her. It’s very normal, what’s she’s come to expect even his hair is styled in perfect gentle waves, framing his stunning face, shining in the light that streams in through the windows, hiding his ears. She doesn’t know what it means, exactly. She’ll probably spend the whole day obsessing over it, why he feels the need to cover up, but not for her. For the first time since this started, she lets herself hope, lets the feeling she won’t identify grow. Maybe this doesn’t have to end in heartache. 

****

There’s banging at her door and a pounding in her head. Finn left an hour ago, surely he isn’t back with more of that bone broth. There is no way she can choke down any more of Poe’s “magical healing elixir”. 

The room spins when she shoves herself into a seated position on the sofa. There's a wet spot on her pillow, at least she was able to get some good sleep. 

“Who is it?” She winces at the throbbing pain in her tremble. 

“Ben. Open up.”

The windows in her apartment are dark, meaning Finn has been gone for much more than an hour. _Damn, how long did she sleep?_

Her throat is dry, scratchy and her head feels like it's been stuffed full of cotton. Every joint in her body screams when she kicks off her blanket, her breath is too hot. The fever must be back. 

Rey isn’t much one for whining or feeling sorry for herself, but right now, she’s too weak to be strong. She doesn’t bother schooling her face into something other than a pout when she flips her pillow over, Ben already knows she drools when the sleep is good, but it’s bad enough he is going to see her like this. No point in making it worse. Because he will want to come in. He’s probably here to make sure she eats dinner.

Why hasn’t she given him a key to her apartment? She has one to his place. Although, in all fairness, she's had it since before they were a couple and technically, he didn't give it to her. It had been in the box on her desk on her first day, along with a work phone, laptop and the planner Ben liked his assistants to use. She should really give him a key. Then she wouldn’t have to answer the door when she’s this near death and he’s insisting on being let inside the quarantine zone. 

Slowly, she heaves herself off the sofa to go open the door, stopping to pick up crumpled tissues and cursing when she nearly knocks over a half empty bottle of red Gatorade that seems to have lost its top. 

The mirror by the door shows a less than stellar reflection, she grimaces at the dark circles under her eyes only made more apparent by the sickly pale look of her skin. She’s never looked worse. At least, not in the four months she’s been seeing Ben Solo. Internally she curses him for not warning her he was coming. She could have showered or at least changed but now there’s no time, not with Ben standing on the other side of the door and her looking like death warmed up in holey leggings and his college sweatshirt; the one she’s been telling him she can’t find for the last month. Briefly, she considers the pros and cons of whipping off the sweatshirt and answering the door topless but shakes off the notion entirely when she hears him ask, “Rey?”

Her limbs feel awkward, shaky fingers twist the deadbolt and tug open the door to find Ben who’s already talking before she can so much as get a good look at him. “What are you doing here?”, he asks. There's a pause in his step, right over the threshold where he bends to kiss her forehead. His arms are loaded with heavy linen grocery bags. 

The question takes her by surprise. Ben seems genuinely confused to find her here — at her home, where she lives. 

It’s ridiculous. Where else would she be? In her sickly state, it takes her a little longer than usual to cross her wobbly arms over her chest and set her face into a mask she hopes resembles amusement, but she gets there, huffing and raising her brows for emphasis. “I’m pretty sure that’s my line.” 

A cabinet door is opened, then her fridge. More rustling, while Ben seems to pay her little mind as he makes himself at home. When he finally turns to look at her, still holding her position by the door, looking she’s sure, not at all affronted by his question and actions, he shuffles close and shakes his head at her before placing another kiss on the tip of her red stuffy nose. “Cute.” 

He unbuttons his jacket, folds it in that way men who wear suits all seem to instinctively know how to do and places his hands on her shoulders. He bends a little at the knee until they are eye to eye, like he does sometimes when she’s annoyed and he thinks the only way to get through to her is by getting on her level. “Seriously though, why didn’t you go to my place? I had supplies sent for you”, he points his head behind him to the kitchen. 

Well, that explains the bags but not the question. 

“You sent me home?” It sounds like a question, because it's a question. 

She’s not entirely sure now that she remembers what was said correctly. This morning felt like a fever dream and the more she stands here looking at his curious eyes, the more she’s not convinced it wasn't. 

One of his hands slips away from her shoulder so he can rub the back of his neck, she misses the warmth and uses all the strength she can muster to not shuffle forward and snatch it back in place. The smile he gives her is a little off, but he recovers quickly, squeezing her shoulder and nodding, “Right.”

There’s a possibility that the cold and flu medicine she took earlier is making this whole situation more difficult than necessary. Rather than continue down that path she asks, “So now it’s my turn to ask, what are _you_ doing here?”

Now he looks down right uncomfortable, eyes going to his shoes and she’s Ben act nearly every way imaginable, but sheepish is the last thing she expected. “I — um, isn’t it obvious? I came to take care of you.”

The tops of her cheeks feel hot and not from the fever, because it’s sweet and he’s right, his being here should be entirely obvious. This is what people do — what couples do. 

When she and Finn were still roommates she came home one evening to find Poe with a spoon in one hand, dish towel in the other, encouraging her best friend to take some cough syrup. The scene had been sickeningly domestic, so intimate Rey had turned away so at to not intrude. She’d gotten used to the pair taking care of each other and occasionally her, but having someone else, someone who wasn’t stuck with her but who chose to be here, that’s new. 

“Oh.” It’s all she can say and she hates how small and inadequate it feels. 

She loathes her reply even more when Ben seems to panic, “Is that — Shit. Rey, I’m sorry. I should have asked. I just assumed it would be ok. I can leave—”.

_Leave. He wants to leave?_

The very idea pulls her out of whatever decongestant fog she’s been swirling in. “What? No!” 

Ben looks startled, completely unsure so she lifts her hands, clears her throat and brings her voice back down to a normal volume. “Sorry, just — no. I would actually really like it if you took care of me.” 

He begins to relax at her words, but his shoulders are still tensed, his teeth still worrying at his bottom lip. Placing her hands on his wide chest she continues, “I — you said in the office that you didn’t want me to get anyone sick. I don’t want to get _you_ sick.”

“You won’t.” 

The odds are against him, they’ve been together everyday for, well, months actually. She should argue and push him out the door so he doesn't further his risk of infection. But the longer he holds her the more she wants. The more she wants, the harder it is to let go. She really doesn’t want to let go. 

She wraps her arms around him tighter, smiling so wide her teeth clack against the straining buttons on his white dress shirt. “As long as your plans to take care of me do not involve spoon feeding me anymore of Poe’s homemade bone broth, you can stay.” 

Ben hums, his shoulders shake her body when he laughs and no one else will ever compare. He’s hardly done anything since arriving but her mind is made up, she wants him to take care of her every time she’s sick — forever. Her heart gives a deep thump at the idea, making her bury her face deeper into his chest lest she give herself away. And yes, her stomach feels a little blah, she can only breathe through her mouth and she wishes she had washed her face since coming home because she’s an infections disaster, but he’s holding her so gently and his chest feels so good under her hands and —

Suddenly her feet leave the floor. Ben’s scooping her up and stomping through her apartment, his hard bottom shoes echoing down the narrow hall. She could squeal or tell him to put her down but in truth, she’s bone tired and the little effort it took to keep herself standing up right through their short conversation has exhausted her. 

So she tucks herself agaisnt him and let’s him take care of her. Trusts him as he shoulders his way through the bathroom door, careful not to hit her head against the door jam. Admires him when he places her down on the counter, leaving her with another sweet kiss to her cheek so he can start the water. 

He softly curses and darts out of the bathroom, shouting at her as he goes that she’s not to move a muscle. 

She’s slumped against the mirror when he returns, bottles and bags of things she knows she would have never thought to buy. With warm, patient hands he helps her down from the counter to remove her clothes. When his eyes land on her — his —sweatshirt, he raises a brow at her. “I see my sweatshirt is still lost.”

Sheepishly, she smiles at him before he tugs the hem up and over her head. “Would you believe me if I told you I found it today?”

There’s a sparkle in his warm chocolate eyes and he shakes his head at her in amusement. “Not even a little bit.”

This makes her giggle, which makes her cough but she manages to shrug it off, choking out an almost unaffected sounding, “Ah, well you can blame a girl for trying”, before Ben has her stripped bare and is encouraging her to carefully enter the tub.

It takes all of two seconds to realize how much better this would have been at his place. Her apartment is nice, nicer than any other place she’s lived and she’s proud of what she’s done for herself. The bathroom is recently remodeled; white tiles, granite countertops, restored clawfoot tub. The problem is, it’s not big enough for two and she really wishes she could pull him in with her. 

Ben fills the tub to the brim and dumps in a combination of oils and salts until the steamy room is filled with the scent of eucalyptus and sage. She can smell again which is no small accomplishment. The salts and heat are helping relax her sore muscles and ease the body aches. 

While she soaks, he washes her hair massaging her temples and scraping his nails over her scalp. It makes her toes curl and her eyes roll to the back of her head. With intense focus he works conditioner through her ends and then gently brushes out any knots until her hair is parting over his finger like liquid silk. 

Carefully, he rinses the product from her chestnut stands, kissing away every wayward drop that makes its way onto her face. He’s seated on a stack of folded towels on the floor behind her, rubbing her shoulders and neck, telling her about the meetings she’d missed; how Mitaka had sat through two without taking a single note and about how lonely he had been at lunch without her there. 

She can picture him, alone at his desk, eyes purposely trained on some email or another but unwillingly darting towards her adjoining door only to remember she’s not there. She knows she didn’t let him down, but he was alone and she hates knowing he missed her. Blindly, she reaches behind, grabbing his hand and dragging it to settle against her chest. “You should have called.”

“I was hoping you were asleep, didn’t want to wake you.” 

Conversation picks up again when he asks about her day. She explains the plot of a show she only saw ten or fifteen minutes of before she passed out and Ben listens intently. Eventually, without her really realizing it, his fingers find their way back to her scalp and he silently begins parting her hair into sections, twisting and combing down other pieces. 

The heat of the bath, the irregular drip from the faucet and the motion of Ben’s soft tugging lulls her into a meditative state. Her heart and mind meld together, whispering words like cherished, treasured, loved. She’s floating or maybe that’s the bath. Every muscle down to her toes is utterly relaxed and this is the best she’s felt all day. 

She wants to open her mouth and ask him to do this every night, but she’s not brave enough. Too afraid to break the trance he’s put her in, too afraid to sound so needy. 

“There, all done,” he whispers, kissing the back of her neck. 

Pulling her hand from the water, she runs her fingers over the braid. She doesn’t really have much experience with braids but it feels perfect, neat and tidy, tight without pulling at the roots. She wants to ask him for a mirror, wants to make him take a picture of it on her phone so she can savor it long after tonight. 

No ones ever braided her hair before, she’s glad it’s him. 

Before she can let that thought have any more room to grow she flips around on her stomach, laying her arms over the ledge of the tub and meeting his eyes. 

Ben smiles and her stomach flips. 

“Hi,” she whispers, because the moment feels fragile. Because the sound of water falling to the tile floor from her elbows and slashing up around her body fills the room. Because the way he smiles at her and kisses her nose — her red puffy nose, makes her want to say a million things she doesn’t think she’s strong enough to say. 

“Hi.”

Reaching out one hand she cups his cheek, “Thank you”. Another whisper, another almost something. 

“Mmm,” he nuzzles against her palm, not caring or noticing the droplets staining his shirt. “For what?”

“Taking care of me. Being here. Risking getting sick. I already feel a little better.”

His chest puffs out, a show of masculine pride at her words and she stiffles a chuckle at his goofy grin. “I’m glad the bath helped.”

“It did. The braiding too.” She runs her hand through his meticulously styled locks, dampening it with the remaining water that clings to her skin. Again, Ben just smiles at her and leans into her touch. He doesn’t comment when she tucks the now wet strands behind his ear. Doesn’t shy away when she runs her thumb over this nearly mysterious part of him. 

“Are you gonna tell me why you know how to braid?”

He shrugs, like there isn’t much of a story. “My mom taught me.”

Usually, she feels a twinge of hurt when people act so casual about the things they learned from their parents. It stings when someone she knows has such little regard for a skill passed on to them by someone who loved them when she herself has no such thing. But this, she has this. Her memories of her parents are few. They’re mostly fuzzy snapshots she’s not certain she remembers correctly anymore and a few aren’t so great. 

But she has one. A perfect one with her mother, shortly before her parents died and left her all alone. One memory of her mother setting her in a tiny bathroom sink, brushing out her hair and styling it into three perfect little buns. To this day, she can smell her mother’s perfume, can hear the sound of her voice, can recall every word, every step.

She surprises them both when she blurts, “Can I do yours?”

“My what?” 

“Your hair?”

“If you want.” Ben grabs her hand smiling at her fondly before ducking down to press kisses to her fingertips. “But first, food. Come on, you’re all pruney, time to get out and fed. No bone broth, I promise. ” 

She can’t argue with that. 

Later, after he’s fed her and stuffed her full of herbs and homeopathic remedies his Uncle Luke swore would make her feel better she drags him into her bedroom, weekly shoving him down into the small kitchen chair that he placed at the end of her bed. 

Sometime between her bath and dinner, he’d slipped out of his work clothes and into a pair of black joggers and a fitted black tee. Both soft to the touch and casual yet he still looks imposing as hell.

She lines up three elastic hair ties and his brush — he hadn't insisted with words, but he’d jumped up and ran to grab his from beside the tub upon seeing the one she intended to use — atop her cream colored duvet. 

He smiles at her in the mirror over her dresser and tilts his head back, making it easier for her to work. “I didn’t know you could braid.” He tells her, eyes alight with excitement or anxiety she’s not entirely sure. 

“Oh, I can’t.”

Anxiety, it’s definitely anxiety she sees now.

Putting him out of his misery she continues. “I’m not going to braid it. You said your mother taught you how to braid, well my mother taught me my buns. It’s been a while since my hair was this short, so they might not be perfect but —”

“You’re going to style it in your three buns?”

“Yeah?”

His eyes are no longer anxious, they're reverent. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows and she knows he understands without her needing to say another word. 

They share a gentle smile, Ben squeezing her ankle where it hangs off the bed beside him and then she gets to work. 

He laughs at the way she sticks the tip of tongue out as she brushes and sections his hair. He asks her questions, distracting ones when he seems to sense where her mind is going. Seemingly knowing she’s only one wrong turn away from being a weepy mess. She’s grateful because while this is something she really wants to do for him, she’s not sure she can handle the winding road her memories take her down. After all, this style, while one she’s worn her entire life is truly her last connection to a life she no longer has, can never have. For better or worse, it’s the only thing she still has of her family. 

When she’s done she repeats his words from earlier, only she climbs up onto her knees to kiss the top of his head. “There, all done.” 

Ben admires her work, twisting and turning to see the three small buns situated at the back of his head. Her stomach rolls with anxious anticipation but settles when she watches the way a proud smile breaks out across his face. He wastes no time standing and pulling her to him. She’s still on her knees but he scoots her closer to the edge of the bed and kisses her, full on the mouth, making her mumble against his lips, “Ben, you’re gonna get sick.”

“Don’t care.” He kisses her again. 

Pushing him gently she scolds, “I care, who do you think will have to reschedule all your appointments?”

His answer comes too fast. “Mitaka, if you take off so you can take care of me.”

“You’re crazy and you’ve clearly thought about this already. Are they expecting me back anytime soon?”

He doesn’t even pretend he isn’t ignoring her question, barreling on, using every persuasive power her possesses. The non sexual kind, of course. “I’m also a man. Haven’t you heard about how awful we handle sickness?”

“Giant baby.”

“I really am.”

“I guess I could give you baths and fix your hair,” she muses. 

“I’d be such a good patient.” In what can only be an effort to butter her up, he starts peppering her cheeks with tiny kisses. 

Rey shrieks when he makes his way down her throat. He’s being purposefully ticklish. “You literally just said you’re awful when you're sick.”

“Mmm, but I would be good for you.” She laughs at him, patting his chest and dodging his kisses until he forces her lips to meet his. “We’ll see.”

His ears stick out, far more prominent than she’s seen them yet and it’s the most adorable thing she’s ever seen. Where a few minutes ago he looked almost menacing in his black on black ensemble now he looks impossibly adorable. Her mouth opens and before she can think to stop it she asks, “Will you take a selfie with me. Us in our new hair?” 

Ben doesn’t answer, just loosens one arm so he can reach around behind him and grab his phone. Then he kisses her cheek and turns his back to her letting her wrap her arms around his neck and pull herself closer. His arms are the perfect length for selfies, she’d discovered that early on and she shamelessly uses this to her advantage. While Ben has never made it a secret he thinks selfies are weird and aside from the ones she’s talked him into taking when they can’t be together and she misses his face he doesn’t take pictures of himself, but he never complains when she asks and she knows that means something. 

He snaps a series of photos. Both of them smiling at the camera. Another when he turns to kiss her on the temple, showing off his three buns and his left ear. Another after she turns to kiss his cheek but is surprised by him turning to kiss her fully.

“Thank you” he tells her when she pulls away for air. She’s breathing better than before but it’s still difficult. 

“For what?”

“For fixing my hair like yours, for letting me take care of you. I was worried about you all day and mostly convinced you would kick me out when I showed up unannounced.”

She doesn’t know what to say and he doesn’t press it. But he kisses her again and then he scoops her up and carries her further up the bed. He tucks her in amoungts her pillows, pulling the blankets up to her chin and kissing her forehead. He makes tsk tsk sounds when he feels how warm she is, like a worried mother hen he checks his watch and declares it's time for more Tylenol. 

His expression mixed with her three buns in his hair makes her laugh hysterically. 

He leaves the room for a glass of water and turns off the lights in her living room and kitchen. Once she’s swallowed the pills he places in her hands he takes the cup back and goes to finish getting ready for bed, leaving her room lit only by the light from the bathroom and the lamp on the other side of the bed. Ben’s side. 

Lying in bed, propped up on her pillows — _so you can breathe_ , he’d told her — Rey watches him wash his face then brush his teeth. She smiles to herself at the way he eyes his hair in the mirror for a long moment, how the corners of his lips turn up just slightly. She expects him to pull the elastic free and shake it out before coming to bed, but instead he wipes the counter and the mirror down with a clean towel, turns off the light and then crawls in beside her. 

In the morning, the bottom bun is hardly intact but the top two are still hanging on. That’s how she finds him at her medicine cabinet looking for the thermometer. She kisses his forehead, tells him he definitely has a fever and sends him back to bed. 

She gathers up medicine and an extra box of Kleenex while she call’s Mitaka. Yes, Mr. Solo is sick. Yes, she’s still running a fever so yes, she’ll need Mitaka to let all of Ben’s appointments know she’ll be calling in a few days to reschedule. No, she will not be answering why she’s calling instead of Ben. 

It’s not really a secret anymore, Ben’s family knows, their friends know, HR knows. They just don’t really broadcast it while they’re at the office and maybe Ben was right, Mitaka might be better suited for a different line of work. 

Then she takes care of him and he takes care of her. They sleep and watch movies from bed. When one has more energy than the other they heat up food and restock the medicine and tissues. After several attempts by Poe to deliver more bone broth she puts her foot down and tells Finn he has to get his husband under control. Ben laughs for ten whole seconds before nearly coughing up a lung when he overhears Finn tell her to just flush it down the toilet like he does and move on. 

For three days straight he braids her hair and for three days straight she pulls his into buns. The morning they both finally get dressed to go into work, she hands him his phone before they leave and sees the picture of them set as his background. The one with his full profile on display, crooked teeth peek out from slightly parted lips, aquiline nose squished against her cheek, fully uncovered ear. Silently, on the car ride there, holding his hand and listening to his morning call with the Atlanta office, she changes hers too. 

****

“Why’s it so fucking hot?”

Rey’s bent over at the waist, hands on her knees, berating herself for how soft she’s become with her cushy office job and reliable air conditioning. It can’t be more than 85° but the humidity is thick, the sun hot on her skin. 

Ben shrugs, “It’s summer.”

“Yeah, but it's the Hamptons, it's not supposed to be hot here.”

“In the last century, the Earth's overall surface temperature has risen by about 1°. Even the Hamptons aren't exempt from Global Warming.”

Pointing a finger in his face, or near where she thinks his face is as she’s pants at her shoes, Rey scowls. “You know how I feel about you throwing facts in my face before noon on a Sunday, Ben.”

A seagull swoops low over their heads. The smell of summer, or what Rey has always imagined it should smell like is thick in the hair; sunscreen, sweat, misty salt air. Ben’s booming laughter mixes pleasantly with the roar of rolling waves. 

If only she were stretched out in the sand, her nose in a book, Ben’s hand on her sun kissed thigh, then the heat would be a thing to be savored. 

They're on the beach, sure, but there are grains of wet sand clinging to her ankles, the sun pounding down on them and the air is so thick she can hardly catch her breath. All because Ben wanted to run and lately, he won't go unless she tags along. 

It’s only been half a mile and already all she can think about is how Ben promised her ice cream. In fact, it’s become a little like a mantra in her head. The alternating slaps of her shoes on the wet sand resembling a staccato chant of _ice cream, ice cream, ice cream, ice cream_ —

Funny how she’d never imagined this little idyllic scene in all her musing over the perfect summer get away. She blames romantic comedies, books, travel materials, anything that made her think running on the beach with a beautiful man could be enjoyable. 

“I think Nancy Meyers sold me a lie about turtle necks, long linen pants.”

Ben looks on at her in quiet amusement, like he always does when he knows she's going to go off on some obscure rant about the price of bananas in the city or how decorative pillow are still fucking pillows. She thinks he must have been seriously deprived of quality entertainment as a child if he finds her so enthralling. “I’m guessing now isn’t the time to tell you Something's Gotta Give is in fact, a work of fiction. Also, Diane Keaton always dresses like that, regardless of the weather.”

Standing to her full height, she places her hands on her hips and tilts her head to the side. “Who even are you right now?”

There’s a wicked glimmer in his eyes and he wags his finger in her face. “Woman, I’ll have you know that Nancy Meyers makes movies both men and women can enjoy.”

Ben calling her woman should not send shivers down her spine. It shouldn’t. But it totally does and she disguises the way she squeezes her thighs together by sauntering closer. _What has this man done to her?_

“Is that right?” 

The fabric of his shirt is pulled taut around his arms where he’s folded them against his chest. Which is not helping the situation in her running shorts. 

Narrowing his eyes at her, he nods. “It is.” 

“And I guess you would know because Leia —”

“Han, actually.” He corrects her with a raised brow.

Not giving him the space to say something about how assuming he was talking about his mother is sexist, she presses forward. “Right, because Han is an avid Nancy Meyers fan.”

“More a stan, actually.”

This man is going to be the death of her. The juxtaposition of his imposing presence and his ridiculous sense of humor might finish her off. 

“Oh my god,” she laughs, “maybe letting you hang out with Poe was a bad idea.”

She and Finn had overheard Poe explaining stan Twitter to Ben the last time they’d had dinner at her place. They’d been a little wine drunk in the kitchen, putting away dishes and giggling like school girls when Poe started talking fancams. Clearly, she’d underestimated how much Ben has been paying attention. 

Ben looks down at his watch, placing his fingers on the pulse point at his wrist and shakes his head. “Yeah yeah yeah. Stop stalling Johnson, we got four and a half more miles to the ice cream shop.”

Confused, Rey gawks at him. “Wait! The ice cream shop is four and a half more miles away? How are you planning on getting back to the house?”

The soft rumble of his laugh is lost on the breeze but she sees the way his shoulders shake. She stares at him in horror as he takes off down the beach, shooting her a wink over his shoulder as he runs.

“Ben.” She sprints after him, shouting and tripping at a dip in the sand.

“Ben! That’s like — Ben, that’s ten miles!” 

He stops, throwing his head back and laughs again, his black waves tousled by the breeze falling back in his eyes when he looks down at her. It’s so long now, it’s been weeks since his missed appointment to have it trimmed and she knows it’s making him crazy. “Only if you lose. Winner gets to pick how we get back home. If I win, we run. If you win, we’ll Uber.”

The breeze pushes another sticky strand into his eyes making him huff a low sound of annoyance. Rey tugs off the spare elastic on her wrist and hands it over. 

“Better pull that hair out of your eyes then, Solo.”

He smirks at her, the weirdo. She knows he loves when she calls him Solo, though for the life of her she’s not sure why. 

“Why’s that?”, he asks, parting the top section of his hair and pulling it back behind his head. And there’s those ears, milky white and peaking out beneath the bottom layer. She wants to ask him if he needs some sunscreen but they don’t have any and somehow she knows the closest shop will be confidently located near the ice cream shop. 

Settling her hands on his chest while he tugs the elastic into place she goes up on her tip toes and plants a sloppy kiss on his lips. He tastes like salt, a sweet combination of the sweat they’ve worked up already and the sea breeze. The faint taste of his morning cigarette is gone now that he’s mostly cut the habit, not that she’d asked. He’d just suddenly stopped tasting like tobacco and she’d like to think it might have something to do with knowing he could waste precious moments standing on his balcony smoking or spend that time nestled inside her. 

He eyes her warily when she pulls away. Smart boy. Rey smiles her most innocent smile, batting her lashes which is over the top, but she doesn’t care. Shoving him playfully she taunts, “Cause I don’t want you to miss the view when I win,” and takes off like a woman crazed. 

She’s quick, but he’s taller and it takes no time for him to catch her around her middle and swing her around, kicking and flailing while she squeals.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the view,” he growls in her ear, causing her to squirm and groan when he tightens his grip. “But I’m pretty sure winners don’t cheat.”

“It wasn’t cheating” she chuckles when he tickles her ribs. 

“You shoved me.”

Ben sets her feet down on the beach and tickles her again. “No! No! It was a — stop that!” Shes giggling now, and he stops his assault on her ribs, nuzzling into her neck. Overstimulated as she is from his tickling the sensation her shriek. “It wasn’t a shove. It was love pat.”

She feels Ben’s sharp inhale against her skin and her body goes rigid. They haven’t said _it_ yet. They aren’t _there_ yet. They’ve just moved past the whole _things being new stage_ , just stopped trying to pretend this is casual. Or something beyond working out the sexual tension. They only just made things official at work, mostly because they both took nearly a week when they were sick and also so they could take this vacation, but still people know now. They don’t hide it that she rides to work with him in the mornings or that he’s staying further from the office at her place on Thursdays. It’s out there, but here they are both frozen on the beach and she doesn’t know what to do. Silently, she prays to the romantic comedy god herself, Nancy Meyers that Ben won’t say anything because she doesn’t think she’s ready. 

Ben does one better, he turns her to face him, kisses her nose and then shoves her and sprints down the beach. 

As soon as she gets her footing she’s flying. And it’s a full blown war now. They stop to splash water at each other, Ben snatches his Tshirt by the collar and tosses it in her face. She does the same. 

She jumps on his back and demands to be carried the rest of the way. He dumps her in an empty lounge chair someone left out the night before laughing while he jogs backwards, egging her on. 

They run and laugh and by the time they see the shops ahead they’re both panting and soaked in sweat — maybe a little sea water, but mostly sweat. Ben stops to shake the sand from his shirt and Rey barely gives him a “heads up” before she’s leaping into his arms. He spins her around when she yells “I’m flying” and they both laugh like idiots. Lost in their own world until someone says Ben’s name and Rey finds herself back on the ground. 

They turn to find a lanky man with bright red hair, wearing the most cliche Hampton wear Rey has ever seen. She didn’t know grown men really dressed this preppy in real life. 

“Hux,” Ben says, reaching up to tug the elastic from his hair. He runs his left hand through the tangled locks and sticks his right forward to shake this man — Hux’s hand. “Wow, it’s good to see you. How’ve you been?” Instantly she sees the shift in him, he’s still relaxed and friendly, not his in office persona, but there's a guard in place with other people. She wonders if he has any left up when it comes to her and images that yes, he must. 

Hux smiles and they do that weird man hug, handshake thing which makes Rey smile because Ben is always the most professional man in any room, and yet she just watched him kind of hug someone other than his mother — or her. 

At the same moment Ben turns and reaches out hand to her, beconicking her to come closer. “Rey, this is Armitage Hux, an old classmate from boarding school. Hux, this is Rey Johnson, my girlfriend.”

It’s the second time he’s called her that and she loves it even more now that it isn’t being said to three of the board members for the company she works for who also happen to be Ben’s parents and uncle. 

She does kind of wish she wasn’t meeting this old friend of Ben’s in her sports bra and running shorts, but Ben’s looking at her like he couldn’t be more proud. Hux looks stunned but in a friendly way and she shakes the man's hand while Ben rests his arm around her waist. He’s thrown their shirts over his other shoulder so she prays like hell that the fierce wild against her cooling skin isn’t making her nipples stand out like headlights as Ben and Hux catch up. 

Hux is here for the weekend, with his fiancé Rose. Someone says they should all have dinner, maybe at that little Italian place down by the water. 7:30? Great, they’ll meet there. 

They all say quick goodbyes and once Hux pulls away Ben turns back to Rey offering her an apologetic smile. “Are you sure you want to go to dinner? I can call Hux later and explain that this week was supposed to just be the two of us, I know he’d understand.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m glad we’re going. He seems really nice and I’m excited to meet Rose.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He kisses her, quick, chaste but sweet and she really is happy. She doesn’t have many girlfriends, Kaydel and Phasma occasionally invite her out to lunch but that’s not really the same thing. It’ll be nice to meet someone new. Maybe they’ll hit it off, she’s not surprised to find she’s really looking forward to it. But first, ice cream. 

“You promised me ice cream.”

“Come on them, you gremlin. Let’s get you your treat.”

She swings her arms around his neck again and when the wind blows his hair into their eyes, she pushes it back and traps it beneath her fingers so she can kiss him more firmly on the lips. She covers his face with kisses, smacking her lips against cheeks, his neck and his ears. Ben squirms playfully underneath her attention but never lets her go, fully enabling her to torture him in this sweet affectionate way. 

He admits defeat when she steps into the shop first, technically he beat her to the shop but then he held the door open for her and now they’ll be Ubering back to the house. She wonders if he can’t stop himself from being the good gentleman his mother raised or if he just really doesn’t want to run five miles back down the beach with a stomach full of ice cream and waffle cone. 

They eat their ice cream beneath the mid morning sun and watch some kids try to fly kites in the Atlantic breeze. She’s sprawled across his lap so they can share a lone sun faded Aderondack chair and Ben kisses the drops of ice cream off her lips, chin and a dangerously low spot on her throat. When they’re finished Rey tosses the napkins into the trash bin while Ben orders them an Uber. He holds her close to him on the ride back to the house, rolling the back windows down so the driver won’t hear all the wicked things Ben whispers in her ear. 

They race to the pool through the house, leaving a trail of sweat soaked clothes as they go. Ben jumps first, totally bare into the crystal blue pool overlooking the ocean and mindlessly Rey follows. He meets her below the water for a kiss, his mouth hot and sweet compared to the salty cold water of the pool. His hands are wrapped firmly around her waist when he hoists her above the surface and he just keeps kissing her. After his hair falls into his face one too many times he growls and yanks it back into another lopsided half up ponytail before meeting her for another hot kiss. 

The feel of his scorching naked body against her, surrounded by the refreshingly cool water is like heaven. Rey wraps her legs around his hips and lets him swim them into shallower water. She makes him choke on a mouth full of water when he has her splayed across his chest, swimming on his back and she grinds against his erection. The moment she realizes he’s ok though she does it again and this time he moans and slips his hand beneath her ass to find her hot wet center. He pushes two fingers inside her at once and it’s a snug fit but they’re both ravenous for each other and she whimpers at the intrusion. When he enters her with a third she cries out, “Ben. Fuck me, please.” 

He does. Pushing her back against the rough outer rim of the pool, careful not to scrape her skin and she pulls his hair forcing him to focus on her, what she needs, not what she doesn’t. What she needs is him, deep inside her, filling her up. She doesn’t give a single fuck if she ends up with scratches on her shoulders, in fact right now she kind of hopes she’s get a few. 

She wants to be marked by him, his hands around her waist are so tight she hopes they leave bruises and because she absolutely can not tolerate the idea of him loosining his hold on her at this moment she reaches between them, arching slightly so she can line him up with her entrance just right. Ben holds her steady, encouraging her, “that’s it sweetheart”. He slips and grazes her clit with the head they let out a shuttering fuck and she places him back and holds him in place while he lowers her down. 

The bonus of Ben’s ridiculous strength mixed with her practically being weightless in the water is he can use her body as he wants and she’s never been happier to sit back and watch it happen. He thrust and slams her down all at once and the places he’s hitting inside her shoots whit hot sparks down to her fingertips. Her arms flung around his shoulders, head thrown back in ecstasy every time he slams her down. “Touch yourself, I wanna see you.” He commands and she gives. 

“Tease yourself, don’t need you to fall apart just yet.” 

Slowly, she traces her hand down her chest, over her breasts pinching the swollen buds of her nipples to make him groan and then trailing a line down her stomach until she finds her clit. With two fingers she begins painting feather light wider circles around and around and it feels so good she says his name. It’s a plea for more, it’s a confirmation that this is exactly what she needs. “More” he growls against the skin of her breasts, before he sucks a dusty pink nipple into his mouth. “Ben.”

He’s pounding into her so hard, there’s water splashing over the edge into the grass. Waves crashing from the beach, from the pool, from Ben, from her. “Almost there, want you to come with me. Come on my cock Rey. Can you do that sweetheart?” 

She can’t speak so she nods and she tightens the circles around her clit when she feels his thrusts grow frantic. _One, two, three_ and the waves keep coming, ready and willing to pull her away, to take her under. _One, two, three_. 

“Come,” Ben’s voice, gone husky and low whispers in her ear before he bites her shoulder and then she’s gone. It’s violent, a hot explosive fire that drowns and devours. She’s chanting his name, nails digging into his shoulder and his keeping her up, pulling her into his chest and slamming her down while he joins her. Slowly she floats back to the surface, surrounded by his warmth and his praise. “Good girl. So good. You came so pretty on my cock.” He kisses her through the aftershocks, lightly thrusting as they both come to. 

When it’s over and he holds her, still in the water, growing soft inside her while they lounge on the steps, wrapped in one another. He looks thoroughly fucked underneath her, his hair wild and falling out of the elastic. She runs her fingers through it, tracing the shell of his ear like she’s learned he likes. He moans, rocking up into her again and it fills her with a heady type of pleasure, knowing this little detail about him. He drags the tip of his nose then his lips over the spot he bit at her shoulder and laughs. It starts as a soft chuckle, shifting to those deep dulcet tones that vibrate through her chest and make her heart race. 

Finally she grabs his face with two hands and searches his eyes. “What?” 

Ben bites his lips between his teeth in an attempt to collect himself. He fails miserably and laughs through his explanation. “I think you’re going to need a turtleneck for dinner.”

****

All it takes is a sliver of white skin, peeking out between dark rumbled waves to send her world spiraling into a tailspin. 

Ben catches it in his reflection from the floor to ceiling windows and flushes red, hurrying to ruffle his hair back into place, keeping his back turned to the room until he’s sure it’s covered. He keeps his hand over his mouth, a nervous gesture she’s picked up on over the last several months and if she had to guess he’s biting his bottom lip. She doesn’t need to hear his thoughts to understand why his eyes scan the other attendance, seeing if anyone noticed. He’s wondering how long he walked around sighing and huffying while his ear was sticking out. As if the sight of any part of him he hasn’t carefully curated into his Ben Solo CEO persona could make them take him less seriously. His ears are a chink in his armer. 

His eyes meet hers as he studies the other faces, and when he sees her smiling, he melts. The scowl he's been wearing for the last hour disappears, the deep line between his brows goes soft, his shoulders relax back into a neutral line. The crooked smile she knows so well is still hidden behind his fingers but his eyes sparkle and something clicks into place. 

To the world Ben Solo is this formidable business man in his $10,000 black suits, with a fiery temper and a tongue nearly as sharp as his mind. But with her, he’s just Ben. He’s comfortable rolling over and showing her his belly or in this case his ears and she can’t believe she’s missed it. Her mind is flooded with the number of times he hasn’t hidden from her. How often he’s vulnerable by his own choice and how often he encourages her to be the same way with him and she gasps when the thought solidifies. 

Ben loves her. 

Ben stops pacing. Everyone at the table turns in their chairs to look at her. “Rey, are you alright?”

Her vision’s gone misty, she blinks and tries to remember there are other people in the room, this is not the time to throw herself at him and declare her feelings. She clears her throat, stalling and gives the room the lamest excuse she can think of in the span of a breath. “Foot cramp”, she remembers to reach down and cradle her foot at the last second. 

It’s all very unconvincing. 

Without a doubt, Ben knows she’s lying. Most likely, so do the other ten people, but he nods and smiles, not letting his eyes linger too long before going back to making his point. As if nothing has happened. As if her whole world hasn’t changed. 

The meeting drags on; she should be listening, taking notes, but she can’t seem to get her thoughts back under control. 

She’s reeling, mulling over every moment he’s ever shown himself to her. Every toothy grin, the way he snorts when he really gets laughing. The stories about his childhood, both good and bad. How he stopped hiding his ears from her in private. 

For a while, she’d just thought it meant he was more comfortable with her and there’s truth in that statement. But she’d failed to consider what kind of trust he must put in her, what strong feelings it must show because, there’s not liking something about yourself and then there's hiding. 

Rey doesn’t like the way she treats every meal as if it’s her last, how she sneezes or knobby knees. But she doesn’t have to hide those things, she’s been picked on about all of them, and maybe she’s a little sensitive but she doesn’t spend a lot of energy keeping them tucked away from the world. 

She hides her loneliness, her fear of abandonment, of never belonging. She’s only ever let those truths be spoken to the people she trusts, people who fought their way into her life and her heart. People like Finn and much later Poe.

Now, Ben. 

And Ben, he hides his vulnerabilities. Every little thing that could be twisted, used against him, sharpened and forgerd as a weapon to break and destroy. Any potential weakness, real or not gets tucked away, so much that she fears there may be so much she doesn’t know about. 

But no, he loves her. She feels it, knows it, because he’s shown her. 

She knows about his worries, and understands his fear. The fear that if he shows his true self, the person beneath the mask, that people might gain the ability to hurt him. Because in the past he’d opened himself up, to his family, to people who said they cared and they’d exploited his vulnerabilities. His kind heart, his self doubt, his anxiety over never meeting his potential. 

That’s why he slips into this man that everyone thinks they know, never falters from it because if they glance too closely at his scars they’ll see his whole story and then they might shatter him to pieces.

The meeting finally ends and Rey’s hands are shaking when she mindlessly nods goodbye and smiles at the men and women who leave the room. Ben’s still talking to one of the new Executives, giving her a little wave of his finger to let her know he will be a while and she’s free to go. She doesn’t wait, scooping up her thinks and trying her best to seem normal as she rides the elevator up to their floor. Trying to smile like — _how does she normally smile?_ — when she walks to her office, heels clacking against the black polished tiles. 

Sitting down behind her desk she makes some attempt to collect her thoughts. Her heart is pounding beneath her ribs, head swimming at the absurdity of having this all right here in front of her and being too blind or afraid or both to see it. Because he’s told her, he’s shown her and maybe he hasn’t said it yet, but something tells her that he’s just waiting. Like he’d waited to see if she could be trusted with other parts of him. Maybe telling her, out loud is the last thing he’s holding back. Maybe he’s waiting for her to say something, anything that might let him know she’s in, that she wants it; his love, his trust. She wants him to be vulnerable with her. 

As if her body knows before her mind, Rey’s up and moving. She’s not sure how long it's been since she left the conference room, but she can’t sit here alone anymore. She needs to see him, needs to tell him. Now. 

She’ll pull him out of a meeting if she needs to. That's allowed, she’s his assistant and she’s sure she can come up with an excuse if she needs one. Phones are ringing and people are still milling about so he hasn’t gone home yet. Maybe she should have looked at his calendar. Did he have any appointments out of the office today? No, he would have taken her along. 

All she has to do is focus, if she were Ben, where would she — “Rey?”

Her breath hitches in her throat. _Ben_. 

It’s Ben, poking his head out of his office. 

That actually would have been a great place to start. 

Shaking her head she turns on her heels and shoves past him, walking with purpose across the dark grey rug at the center of the room, right between the black leather wingback chairs, until her knees bang into the front of his desk. Her nerves are on fire. She’s drowning. The blood rushing in her ears so loud she can’t focus on anything but the sound of her own heart begging her to tell him, show him, be brave. 

The soft click of a door, Ben’s voice asking her what's going on, honking from the city streets below. 

It's all drowned out. 

_**Tell him.** _

She just has to open her mouth. 

_**Show him.** _

His hands are on her shoulders, “Sweetheart?”

_**Be brave.** _

She just has to turn around. 

_**Tell him.** _

“Rey, you’re shaking.”

_**Show him.** _

She just has to breathe. 

_**Be brave.** _

She turns. 

_**Tell him.** _

“I love you.”

Where there was a deafening roar only seconds ago now there is only silence and a shuddering breath from Ben. She watches her words take hold. Watches the way he transforms before her eyes. Pinched brow, set with worry and confusion now raised in surprise. Tight lips spreading into a brilliant wide smile. Chocolate eyes, panicked and helpless, fill with tears as they dart back and forth between her own; searching, checking, hoping.

His breathing is ragged, breaking his voice when he tries to speak. “You — You.”

She finds it's much easier to say now. It almost feels like the words are scratching at her throat, so ready to be free. “I love you.”

Ben laughs, a small watery sound and cups his hands around her face. 

“You love me?” He asks. His chin and lower lip tremble before he swallows down what sounds like a sob. 

Warm thumbs slide over her cheeks and knows she must be crying too. 

The third time it flies out of her. So easy she wonders what it’ll be like to say it forty times, three hundred times, a thousand times. Like breathing, she decides, it’ll be like breathing. 

“I love you.”

There’s another watery chuckle, from Ben or her or both. “You love me.” Not a question this time.

“I love you.” 

Ben’s arms are around her in a heartbeat, lifting her up and he’s kissing her soundly. “I love you.” Him this time, not her. Their cheeks are wet. “I love you.”

And maybe Ben feels the same sort of relief she does because he just keeps saying it. “I love you. God, I’ve loved you for so long.”

And saying it. “I’ve been trying to tell you. I love you. Trying to find the right time and the right words. Mmm, I love you.”

And saying it. “You’re it for me Rey, I’ve never loved any one way I love you. You’ll never not know love from me, Sweetheart. I’m going to love you, show you how much, every single day.”

And when he stops he asks her to say it again, she does. “I love you.”

They dry each other's tears with sweet kisses and whispered I love you’s. Ben takes her by the hand, pulling her out the office, pausing only long enough to grab her bag. Then he’s shuffling her into the elevator where she straightens his hair because she loves him and she’ll protect his heart and all his fragile pieces. She lets him pull her into a deep kiss before climbing into his car. She answers yes when he asks if he can take her home and now she knows he means his place, but it sounds a lot like he thinks of it as theirs. 

Rey tells him three more times in the car, once on the elevator and half a time at the front door. Ben’s smile grows wider each time, his left cheek dimpling at the door — taking her breath away, making her heartstop. 

He kisses her back to life. 

The door slams shut with a kick and Ben walks them over to the sofa, pulling her down into his lap, wrapping her arms and legs around him snuggly. He brushes her lips with his fingertips and she traces the shell of his ear with her thumb. They tell each other everything they never said, all the things they tried to show. 

They split themselves open, crying over lonely childhoods, laughing at shared memories. When one needs comfort the other is there to hold them, to remind them they aren’t alone, not anymore. When Rey whispers “I love you”, Ben nearly screams it back. 

They’d both been so lost, surviving though just barely, before. Trudging through lives that felt partially empty. Carrying souls that called out in longing for their other half. 

She’s never felt such belonging, she tells him. 

“You belong. You’ll always belong.” Ben whispers when he pulls her tight against his chest.

There are words she could offer, but they don’t seem enough. She knows that she doesn’t need them — he understands, when she runs her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, out of his eyes and behind his ears. 

Rey doesn’t miss it this time, the way he remains completely at ease beneath her touch. She pays careful attention to the way his eyes light up, how his smile tells her everything. He doesn’t shy away, doesn’t cover up. There’s no mask here, no secrets, no hiding. 

She loves him. He’s seen. 

He loves her. She belongs. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have decided to add a short one shot to this but I'm not sure when it will be available, so subscribe if you're interested in reading more!
> 
> Find me on twitter [@reyloaddict](https://twitter.com/reyloaddict)
> 
> Links to my other works:
> 
> [Five Minute Warning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29072079) \- (Rated E, Oneshot, BDSM with fluff, feelings and a few funnies)
> 
> [Let Me In](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29416503) \- (Rated E, Oneshot. Rey doesn’t know that her boyfriend is a Vampire, except maybe she does.)


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